And The Devil Shall Drag You Under
by JA Baker
Summary: Sequel to Cellmates: Xander and the Colonials are about to discover that escaping New Caprica is the last of their worries, even with a new friend...
1. Purgatory

_Again, many thanks to Baladen for beta-reading  
As ever, it all belongs to someone else.  
There will be a third crossover, but you'll have to wait and see just what it is.  
Spoilers for season 3 of_ Battlestar Galactica, _but going AU very early on.  
Almost from the beginning, in fact..._

**And The Devil Shall Drag You Under  
Prologue: Purgatory**

**  
**There was a click as the CD moved into place, the reconditioned Wurlitzer jukebox coming to life as the opening bars of the Scorpions power ballad _Wind Of Chang_e filled the air. The bar's only occupant made his way back over to the pool table, picking up the discarded cue leaning against its cigarette burn abused side and looked at the worn and chipped balls that lay across the often ripped and repaired green felt. Lining up his shot carefully, he sent the cue-ball spinning across the table, hitting the 8-ball and sending it streaking across the felt until it hit the last remaining red ball, and followed it into the pocket.

"The Pool God lives." He snorted, "I have way too much time on my hands."

"The way it is is the way it is." A new and somewhat unexpected voice came from the balcony that covered the bar area, it's owner slowly making her way down the stairs until she stood in the middle of the dance floor, "Like I said, you need to make the best of the situation. Have a drink..."

"_**I DON'T WANT ANOTHER FRAKING DRINK!**_" The man at the pool table snapped back, hurling the cue across the room towards the window. There was a flash as the stick disappeared a split second before it would have hit the glass, and then reappeared back in the rack on the wall.

"See?" He asked, his anger rising, "None of this is real; it's all in my head, even you. How do I know that I haven't just snapped, and the last two years is nothing but some kind of delusion I'm having while sitting lotus style in my very own padded cell?"

The woman walked up to him and slapped him hard across the face; the loud smack of flesh hitting flesh momentarily drowning out the jukebox. "Alexander Lavelle Harris, you will stop acting like a spoiled brat and start acting your age right now!"

"You know, you would never have done that when you were alive." Xander raised one hand to tentatively touch his now aching jaw.

"Death has a way of changing people." Tara cocked her head to the side, "All the pink cotton-wool that clouds our perceptions is ripped away and we see the universe for how it really is." She closed her eyes and shook her head, "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have hit you. But we went to a lot of trouble to set this all up to keep you safe. We couldn't move you physically; the other side is paying too much attention to you right now, but we could take your mind and put it somewhere safe. I assure you your body is perfectly safe and secure."

"My body is on a Cylon controlled planet in some Gods-forsaken corner of the universe." Xander leaned back against the pool table, crossing his arms, "I still don't get why I was sent out here in the first place? Why me? If Sharon's baby was so important, why send me?"

"Because the opposition keeps underestimating you, and we needed that." Tara moved until she was standing next to him, "You're a good man, Xander, and we need that quality. As many Slayers and Wizards and Witches as there are, in the end all those ancient wars against the demon armies were fought by ordinary men and women a lot like you. What makes you important is that you're willing to stand up and fight against the darkness knowing full well just what it is: it doesn't take much to be brave when you're ignorant."

"Can you at least tell me if the others are okay?" Xander asked, "I've tried not to think about them, given how things were always going a little crazy back home, but I need to know that they're okay."

"Time and space are kind of relative, and don't seem so important when you've moved on to a higher plane of existence." Tara frowned, "All I can tell you is that they will never forget you, and will never give up the fight."

"They're dead, aren't they?" It was more a statement of fact than question, "Or not born yet, depending on which way you pulled me thought time."

"As I said, it's all relative." His friend shrugged, "They are alive in your heart, and that's the important bit. The rules prohibit me from telling you anything else."

"Rules are made to be broken?" Xander asked hopefully, then lowered his head and kicked at the floor, "You could have at least hooked me up with a TV and the next season of _Lost_ on DVD..."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The Centurions stood in line, weapons at the ready, facing the double line of condemned prisoners. Galen Tyrol could only look on as Cally ran towards him, away from the firing squad but towards the guns of the resistance fire team, directly into their line of fire. He knew that every second he hesitated from giving the order to open fire increased the chances that the Brother Cavil commanding the mixed contingent of Centurions and New Caprica Police would give the order to begin the mass execution. An inner voice told him that he couldn't risk the lives of the other prisoners to save just one, even if it was his wife.

"Give me ten seconds," He passed his rifle to another resistance fighter, "then open fire..."

Not even waiting for confirmation of the order, he scrambled over the low rise his team were hiding behind and started down the low rise towards Cally, counting down the seconds in his head. His lungs ached with the effort, and his heart beat so loud in his ears it was almost deafening, but as hard as he ran, the distance between them seemed to grow only wider and wider. Some unseen rock caught his foot and he stumbled, managing to recover in time to stop from falling, but he knew instantly that he'd never make it in time. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the moment the resistance opened up, cutting down the Cylons and Cally with equal savagery.

But when the sound of gunfire did come, it was from a new and unexpected direction, and each shot put a neat hole right through the CPU of a Centurion. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, the resistance fighters shifted their aim to Brother Cavil and the NCP traitors, cutting them down. Tyrol scrambled the last few meters to where Cally was laying on the dusty ground, her hands covering her head, and hugged her as tightly as he could.

"Excuse me!" A voice called down from atop a nearby house sized boulder, and the startled Colonials looked up to see a strange young woman dressed in combat fatigues, her shoulder length blond hair pulled back into a basic ponytail, "I just want to confirm that those were robots I just shot, right? Not living people in suits of armor or something like that? It's just that I don't want my dad upset with me again."

"Yes, they were robots." Tyrol regained his composure and looked up, "Who are you, and where did you come from?"

"The name's Jenny," The woman slung a rifle of some unknown design over one shoulder, "and I'm here to help." There was a loud roar as a raider passed over head, banking hard to come back around for a strafing run. Jenny pulled her rifle up to her shoulder and dropped down to one knee as she flicked open the protective caps on the sights. Letting out half a breath, she aimed ahead of the raider and pulled the trigger once: the bullet sliced clean through the fighter's 'head', killing it instantly. It rolled through the air, out of control, before plowing into the ground and exploding.

"Another robot?" She asked hopefully.

"More of a hybrid, or so I've been told." Tyrol stood almost dumbfounded, "Think deadly domesticated animal."

"Oh, that's okay then." Jenny smiled, relieved, "Now I think we should run; I love running."

**To Be Continued... **


	2. Changing The Stakes

_Again, many thanks to Baladen for beta-readin_g

**And The Devil Shall Drag You Under  
Chapter 1: Changing The Stakes**

Xander was more than a little surprised when Tara returned sooner than expected with a rather worried look on her face.

"There's been a... complication." She sounded unsettled, "There's a new, unexpected, factor that we need to take into account."

"You work for _The Powers That Be_." Xander blinked, "How can anything be unexpected?"

"The Powers are not as all-seeing and all-knowing as they'd like to pretend. Neither are the other side, thankfully." Tara explained, "There are others, separate and alone, who may, from time to time, take an interest in events. Now appears to be one of those times."

"So someone else wants to be dealt into the game." Xander shrugged, "What's the problem with that?"

"The new player, for want of a better word, is a representative of a power we never expected to see again." His friend and guide sat down, "From what the others have told me, which isn't everything, they don't normally take an active interest. They just watch and record. No one has seen or heard anything from them for so long, we thought that they had all fallen in battle. But now one of them has entered the fray, apparently on our side..."

"Apparently?" Xander's eyebrow shot up.

"The Lords of Time play by their own, often incomprehensible, rules." Tara continued, "Sometimes they are the Angel; sometimes the Demon. It remains to be seen on which side they will fall this time. All we know is that things are now much more complicated, and the other side is bound to react. We don't know just what they're going to do, only that they must be planning something."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"She's not human. I can tell you that much." The former medical student who had been pressed into service by the Resistance shook his head and sat down, "And she's not like any Cylon I've ever seen, either. Grab a stethoscope and have a listen if you don't believe me: she has two hearts, one on each side. When she's at rest her brain is working at almost ten times the record for a human under intense physiological stress, or a soldier in combat. Add to that some extra organs I can't even begin to recognise on the ultrasound, and blood-work like I've never even read about."

"Cylon blood is different." Zarek pointed out, "Heck, the blood of a hybrid cured cancer."

"We're talking about something a lot more complicated than that." The medic racked his brains for a way to simplify what he was trying to put across, "Normal humans like you or I have forty DNA memo-groups. Cylons have maybe fifty, according to the files you got me. Either way, more than enough to allow reproduction in any mammal." He pointed at the door leading to the isolated observation room, "She has close to _half a million_ memo-groups, maybe more. Same as ours, but the density and complexity of their organisation is staggering."

"Why would any race need that much genetic information?" Zarek asked, bewildered.

"Unless it's some form of engineered genetic memory, I haven't a clue; it's beyond anything we've even hypothesised." The medic raised his hands in mock surrender, "I don't know what she is, just that she's not local, if you catch my drift."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Caprica-Six sat beside the only occupied bed in the small medical ward the Cylons had built as part of their command complex. Most of her people chose death and rebirth into a fresh body rather than attempting to heal anything but the most basic of injuries, and the New Caprica Police had their own medical facilities. Yet much attention was being paid to the young man lying comatose in the bed, hooked up to an assortment of medical scanners and monitors that the Cylons had brought with them all the way from the Twelve Colonies. There, watched over at all times by at least one of the Fours and occasionally one of the few human doctors they trusted, the enigma that was Alexander Harris lay in the same state as she'd found him on _Colonial One_.

The others were still debating what to do with him: some saw him as a threat and wanted him dead, while the others felt it was best to see what information they could gleam from him about Earth and her defences. Caprica was undecided: all she knew was that the young man was somehow important in a way she couldn't begin the fathom. Cylons were, by their very nature, religious, but that's not to say spiritual: knowing God existed as a fact took no faith. But their God had been silent about the stranger, and the hybrids refused to discuss him.

Not that they were known for their startling wit and conversation.

"What secrets are you hiding" She asked the comatose patient rhetorically, "Where are you taking us?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Who are you?" Laura Roslin asked as she sat across a small folding table from the stranger who had saved both her own life and the lives of the other prisoners with her timely intervention.

"Well, like I said before, my name's Jenny." The young blond woman looked and sounded a little nervous, "That's the only name I've got; dad didn't give me a last name. Don't even know if he has one himself." Her brow furrowed, "Come to think of it, I don't even know his name."

"What are you doing here?" The former President asked, her eyes a cold and hard as ice.

"Trying to help people." Jenny shrugged, "That's what my dad does, or so I've been told. And I'd like to find him again: there are a lot of questions I need answers to."

"How did you get here?" Roslin continued, confused as to whether the woman before her was very simple, or just eccentric.

"I have a ship; a shuttle really." Jenny shrugged again, "Something told me that there were people in need of help here, so I came."

"What do you want?" Roslin leaned forward, her elbows on the table.

"That's not a question I should answer." For a moment, it almost seemed that a shadow had fallen across the young woman's face, "The wrong sort of people ask that question, and it can lead to all kinds of trouble." She shook herself, "I'm sorry about that. I get these, mental flashes, I suppose you could call them." She looked pained, as if she was trying to find the words to explain something that she didn't understand herself, "I get a sound, a smell, an image, all jumbled up and turned round. And I know things. Things I shouldn't know; impossible things. But it's like I can only remember them when I really need to, but then it's almost like I've always known it, as if I've rediscovered a book that I read years ago. I mean, I built an FTL drive for my shuttle using nothing but spare parts I found on-board, and something tells me that's _not_ normal."

"Okay, let's start with something a little easier." Roslin took a deep breath, slightly unnerved by what she had seen in the stranger's eyes, "Where are you from?"

"A planet called Messaline, a colony set up by humans and a race called the Hath." Jenny answered, her normal, relaxed expression returned, "I'm a clone, created by a progenation machine using a sample of my father's genetic code. He wasn't very happy about that at first; they didn't ask his permission."

"But you're not human, are you?" Roslin cocked her head to the side, "What are you?"

"I don't know." Jenny shrugged, "Like I said, there are lots of questions I need to ask my father. I have a memory, an image, of a giant citadel atop a mountain, encased in a bubble of pure, flawless diamond. I think that's where my father came from, but I couldn't say."

"You said Messaline was settled by humans." Roslin backtracked slightly, "Do you know of a world called Earth?"

"Earth: original home-world of Humans, Silurians and Sea Devils. Third planet of the Sol system." A slightly blank look came across the younger woman's face, almost as if she was reading from a book, "Located in the Mutter's Spiral galaxy, known as the 'Milky Way' by most inhabitants."

"Do you know its..." Roslin stopped mid-sentence, "Did you say original home-world of humans?"

"Yes, I did, didn't I?" Jenny cocked her head to one side, "I never knew that before."

"Are you a Cylon?" Zarek asked from the doorway, his jacket left open to show the butt of the gun in his shoulder-holster.

"I don't know what a Cylon is." Jenny looked and sounded confused, "Are those robots I shot yesterday Cylons?"

"They're one example, yes." Roslin nodded, "Many years ago, our society created the first Cylons to fight for us in the unending wars between our worlds. But they became self-aware and rebelled, forcing us to band together like never before in order to defeat them. Eventually, after years of war, an armistices was signed. The Cylons left for parts unknown. Then, a little over a year ago, after forty years of silence, they attacked our worlds without warning or provocation, slaughtering billions. Then, after destroying almost our entire civilisation, they hunted those of us who survived, following us across the stars. We had hoped that here, on this sheltered world, that we might find peace, but they found us, and rather than simply kill us they have enslaved us. Only a handful of our ships escaped; we don't know where they are or if they will ever come back."

"I see." Jenny sat in silence for a moment, then looked up, "How can I help?

**To Be Continued... **


	3. A Most Dangerous Game

_Again, many thanks to Baladen for beta-readin_g

**And The Devil Shall Drag You Under  
Chapter 2: A Most Dangerous Game**

Caprica stood, arms crossed, as a Centurion moved the last piece of equipment into place. It had taken her days to convince the others to allow her to proceed with what Cavil had called 'a reckless and ultimately futile experiment', but she was convinced it was the only way forward. It was risky; no human had ever been brought into the shared projection, and there was a risk of permanent brain damage if there was a power spike. But with the Resistance growing bolder and more successful, it could only be a matter of time before they staged a raid on the medical block.

"One way or another, we are going to have a little talk, Mr. Harris." She looked at the comatose man, "If you won't come to me, then I'll just have to go to you."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"_I've got those broken-down blues  
__I've got those broken-down blues  
__Everything I did I did for you,  
__But now I've got nothing left to lose  
__I've got those broken-down blues._"

Xander sat on an old sofa, playing with a guitar he'd found behind the bar.

"_Now it ain't no kind of life  
__Just playing cards and shooting dice  
__But baby, it's the only game in town.  
__I've bet on everything that moves,  
__From here to Timbuktu,  
__But Lady Luck, she just refused bein' my friend.  
__A Preacher told me once or twice,  
__That gambling was a vice,  
__But I don't think I heard a word he said._"

"Good, but I don't think Johnny Cash should be feeling worried just yet." Tara stood in the doorway, "I'm glad to see you're in a better mood today."

"Let's just say I take some comfort in the idea that there are people out there who have the ability to mess with the plans of the not-so-all-mighty Powers That Be." Xander smiled as he started to strum the opening cords to _Walk The Line_, "Anyway, Johnny Cash is dead; even I know that."

"The Time Lords are not to be taken lightly." His friend warned, "The, others, fear that they have yet to show their true colours."

"I've spent almost half my life now fighting the good fight, and I'm beginning to get a little sick of how your bosses see us all as little more than cannon-fodder." Xander stood, slinging the guitar over one shoulder, "If there's a third option, someone who might be willing to get their hands a little dirty and actually help, then I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt."

"Do not make the mistake of trusting her completely." Tara looked worried, "Her people can be as cold and calculating as any demon."

"I'm not Buffy, and I'm sure as hell not Angel." Xander shook his head, "Don't expect me to follow anyone blindly."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Darkness enveloped Caprica, and there was a sensation of falling as her mind spread out across the neural link, searching for the faint whisper that was Xander's mind. There was an odd sensation, and Caprica realised that she was falling through a moonlit sky towards an open savannah, a few wispy clouds passing by as she gained speed. Fear gripped her as the ground raced up to meet her at an alarming rate, but in the end she landed as softly as a feather. Catching her breath, she looked around for some sign of life.

A strange, dog-like creature stood looking at Caprica, its sharp teeth showing, a low growl almost lost against the sound of the storm that raged around them. Lightning flashed across the sky, momentarily turning night into day, illuminating a man who knelt over a crude fire. He was dressed in combat fatigues and there was a strange looking rifle laying on the grass beside him.

"You never mind him: he's just howling at the wind." A worn, burned-out voice advised, "He's not let off the leash much, and it makes him all kinds of cranky."

"Who are you?" Caprica asked, "Where am I?"

"The who is unimportant." The soldier remained facing the fire, his face hidden, "The where is some place you don't belong. It's already too crowded with three of us in here."

"I'm trying to contact Mr Harris." The Cylon explained, "There are questions I need to ask."

"He knows." The man gestured towards the storm, "And he's not happy. He doesn't want you here."

"I came here for answers and I'm not leaving without them." Caprica started to advance, but a hand fell upon her shoulder and she was spun round. She gasped when she found herself facing Xander, his missing eye returned, but a dark look on his face.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, the thunder echoing along with his voice, the very ground beneath their feet shaking, "You don't belong here!"

"Neither do you." Caprica broke away and started to back up, "Who sent you?"

"You don't want to know." Xander advanced on her, "You shouldn't have come in here; there are some boxes best left locked." The Hyena barked savagely in agreement, while the soldier picked up his rifle, "There are some secrets best left unknown." He pushed Six up against a tree, "Do you truly want to know where I'm from? What I've seen and done?"

"Y...Yes!" Caprica nodded, half terrified.

"As you wish." Xander smiled evilly, "But remember; my mind, my rules."

A stream of images struck Caprica with a near physical force, overwhelming her mental defences. Sights, sounds and smells bombarded her from every direction at once. In a few seconds, she experienced seven years of life on a Hellmouth. She screamed as the memories seared into her mind, shaking her to her very core.

"Now," He snarled, lightning striking the ground around them as thunderclaps almost deafened them, "_**GET OUT OF MY HEAD!**_"

There was an explosion of light, and Caprica was gone.

The thunder rumbled away into the distance, the storm clouds dissipating into a clear, blue sky. The Hyena looked at Xander hopefully for a moment, then disappeared off into the long grass with its tail between its legs. The soldier stood and turned to face Xander, his face almost a mirror image of the young man's, only older and scarred.

"You know, every time you let us out like that, we become a bigger part of you." He warned as he started to fade from sight, "There'll come a day when you can't just put us back in our boxes when you're done."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Caprica sat bolt upright, gasping for breath; her head was still ringing after Xander's mental assault, the memories having hit her with the force of a shotgun blast to the face. She found herself looking around the room, checking the shadows for vampires and other demons. Her pulse racing, she looked around the room and was terrified to find no sign of the medics assigned to watch over her. Indeed, the only other occupant was one of the Cavils, his hands behind his back.

"I tried to warn you, but you just didn't listen." His right arm came round, an oversized pistol in his hand, "There are some things that are best left alone by those who don't understand."

"They watch us...from the darkness." Caprica whimpered, her eyes still darting from side to side, expecting a demon to emerge from the shadows, "They're everywhere."

"I know." Cavil nodded, a genuinely sad expression on his face, "You see, the truth is that there is no God. At least, not the benevolent one you believe in." He raised the gun and pressed it against the side of the quivering woman's head and cocked the hammer, "The universe is a cold, harsh place, and we're all alone in the night."

"Th...thank you." Caprica closed her eyes for the last time, bighting her lower lip.

Cavil pulled the trigger, the low walls amplifying the sound, and Caprica slumped to the floor.

"Take her to reclamation." He ordered a Centurion that stepped through the door, "I'll have to erase her memories before she resurrects. Hopefully I can convince her that the system shorted out and killed her." He looked across at Xander, "Keep a closer eye on your secrets, Mr Harris; the one who is coming would be very unhappy if you let anything slip ahead of time. He has plans for you; He has plans for all of you."

**To Be Continued... **

_If anyone is interested, Xander's song should be sung to the tune of _In The Jailhouse Now_ by Jimmie Rodgers,  
__and the full version can be found by following the original fiction link in my profile._


End file.
